


Far Above Rubies

by Beatrice_Otter



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christianity, Domestic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice_Otter/pseuds/Beatrice_Otter
Summary: All in all, it was a highly eligible match and Mary was quite pleased with herself for securing it.  She might wish Mr. Collins paid more attention to his scriptures and the writings of the great theologians than to the edicts of Lady Catherine, but Mary's own scholarship in that area was more than sufficient to remedy the lack.





	Far Above Rubies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuramiyurights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuramiyurights/gifts).



> **AN:** I generally use the date Austen started writing Pride and Prejudice (1797), rather than the date she published it (1813), and this fic reflects that.
> 
> **AN 2:** Title is from Proverbs 31:10-31. "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies…. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates."
> 
> Unbetaed, please let me know if you spot any mistakes.

"My dear Mrs. Collins," said Mr. Collins to his new bride, "welcome to Hunsford Parsonage." He offered his hand to help her from the carriage, which the new Mrs. Collins dutifully took, although she was a sturdy young lady in no great need of it. Still, it was the correct thing to do, and both the parson and his bride appreciated doing things in the proper fashion. Indeed, it was one of many things they had in common.

"Is it not a charming house?" Mr. Collins asked.

Mary Collins, née Bennet, studied her new home. It was a neatly-kept modern house of two stories, with symmetrical windows and pleasingly colorful flower beds in front, made of wood instead of the more fashionable stone. It looked to be well-made, respectable, comfortable, and not so large that managing it would be a burden. "Indeed, it is everything that it should be."

"Come, my dear, and inspect your new domicile," Mr. Collins said, fairly glowing with pleasure, and Mary followed him in curiosity.

Inside the house, the layout was immediately apparent. Two rooms in front, two in back, with a staircase in the middle; likely the same arrangement on the upper floor, with room for servants in the attic. To her left was the dining parlor which was undoubtedly one of the chief parts of her responsibility, and which Mr. Collins was beginning to describe to her; to her right was a sitting room in which she could see book-cases. She went right.

Mr. Collins followed her in and began enumerating all the points of interest in the room, of which he found many, although the books themselves did not seem to be one. Indeed, there were fewer than she expected, and they were suspiciously pristine aside from a volume by Alexander Pope on landscape design, but oh, what treasures were here! Essays by Jeremy Taylor, George Herbert, and William Law, sermons by John Dunne, writings of Richard Hooker and Thomas Cranmer, why, he even had Calvin's _Institutes of the Christian Religion_! (Did he have Presbyterian leanings?) Nothing by the Wesleyans, although Mary was _intensely_ curious about them. After all, how could she refute their errors if she didn't _know_ them?

Mr. Collins might not be as familiar with his book-room's contents as he should be, but though the number of volumes was smaller than that of her father's study, they were infinitely more interesting to Mary. Theology, philosophy, and ethics were far better than history or poetry. Her hands ached to take them all down and start reading immediately, but she knew she must turn her attentions to her duties as wife and mistress of the house, first.

Mary turned reluctantly away from the shelves and followed her husband around the rest of the house. It was very thorough, and accordingly took more time than eight rooms of no great size might be expected to take. But Mary appreciated it; she much preferred being told things directly rather than being expected to notice them on her own.

The comments Lady Catherine had made on the day she had so generously given of her time and attention to tour the house were a common theme in her new husband's recitation. "That was a very helpful suggestion," Mary said, impressed, in response to an anecdote regarding the placement of a wardrobe in the guest room.

"Oh! Indeed, all of Lady Catherine's suggestions are of such inestimable value," Mr. Collins said. "You will soon know the condescension of her regard for yourself. It is an experience to be treasured."

Mary was not sure that she would _treasure_ it; however, as household arrangements were not very interesting to her, the advice of someone who actually cared about such things would likely be quite helpful. But much as Mary had tried to ignore the internal politics of her home, she had not grown up in a house with six women for nothing. "Of course," she said. "Lady Catherine was most kind to condescend to aid you in such a particular way when you were a bachelor, with no mistress to arrange things for you. I am sure that now your need for such guidance is no longer, such a great lady will find other demands on her time."

"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Collins asked in some confusion.

"The Lord in his providence gave women care over the domestic sphere," Mary said. "Each to her own hearth and home. Lady Catherine is a generous and thoughtful lady, but the hearth and home God has given her to manage is quite large and no doubt requires much attention. _This_ hearth and home, however small in comparison, is my own to manage, and not her ladyship's. I will, of course, be humbly grateful for what advice she may give regarding our domestic arrangements, but you have always described her as being attentive to the proprieties. No doubt that includes a recognition of the limits of her own role in the home of another lady, however modest in comparison."

Mr. Collins' expression was skeptical, but Mary went on anyway. "Regardless, if she _does_ try to enforce her rule over my housekeeping, it is not your concern. That is one of the benefits of being a married man, is it not? Freedom from managing domestic arrangements?" With that said, she asked a question following up on what Mr. Collins had been saying about the wardrobe, and he returned to the subject of the furnishings.

Mary had wanted to lay a foundation of authority, although truly she would probably take any advice Lady Catherine chose to give. After all, it would be easier and, unlike Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Collins' main interest in the housekeeping was that it required as little of her time and attention as possible. However, if Lady Catherine _did_ suggest something Mary truly did not care to do, she was confident in her ability to maintain her independence.

Mary had weathered the worst her mother and sisters could throw at her in their silliness, frivolity, temper tantrums, moral laxness, headstrong impudence, vandalism, and outright thievery (especially the two younger), and she had never once let them alter her mind or her decisions. Lady Catherine, although no doubt formidable, was merely _one_ person, who did not even live in the same house.

* * *

That evening Mary lay awake contemplating her new life with satisfaction. She was not in love with Mr. Collins. But since, unlike her sisters, she had never filled her head with the empty frivolity of novels, this had not been any impediment to marrying him. Mr. Collins was a highly respectable man, with good morals and excellent prospects. His profession was a highly agreeable one to her, and Mary knew she was excellently suited to be a parson's wife. She might wish he paid more attention to his scriptures and the writings of the great theologians than to the edicts of Lady Catherine, but Mary's own scholarship in that area was more than sufficient to remedy the lack. If one took a positive view of the matter, it would give her an excellent opportunity to see to it that the sermons preached by her husband were theologically sound and on interesting topics.

And, upon that unhappy day when her father would pass, Mr. Collins would inherit Longbourn, and Mary would be mistress of it in her mother's place. While she was not quite certain of her ability to equal her mother's hospitality—Mrs. Bennet, although a silly and nervous woman, kept an excellent table—she knew that she would be far more able to live within their means. The casual profligacy of the household accounts had appalled Mary since she had been old enough to understand what 'entail' meant in relation to her and her sisters. _Mary's_ daughters would have better dowries than a mere hundred pounds per annum!

No, all in all, it was a highly eligible match and Mary was quite pleased with herself for securing it, no thanks to her mother whose focus on marriageability placed physical beauty rather higher than Mary thought it should be. Mrs. Bennet had focused on shoving Elizabeth at Mr. Collins, regardless of the fact that Mary was much better suited to the position, and only Elizabeth's stupidity had allowed Mary the opportunity to get him. (Elizabeth was proof positive that wit and cleverness did not preclude silliness. If only their father had paid proper attention to forming Elizabeth's character, instead of merely jesting with her, she might have been a tolerably sensible person to talk to.)

Mary rebuked herself for such an uncharitable thought. After all, she could now afford to think generously and well of her sisters—she no longer had to share a roof with any of them! And, God willing, they would all find husbands so that there would be no risk of them remaining at Longbourn when Mary became mistress there. She loved them, and genuinely wished them all the best, and she had a feeling she would like them much better from a distance than in person.

On that pleasant thought, she fell asleep.

* * *

The next day saw Mary deep in the work of unpacking her things and familiarizing herself with the household. Mrs. Lewis the cook, Susannah the maid, and John the man-servant were all pleasant and hard-working, and it was no surprise that they had all come highly recommended by Lady Catherine. However, Mr. Collins had taken little attention to matters inside the house unless directed to by her Ladyship, and there were any number of things which had been left unattended, or could be improved.

Among them the fact that Mrs. Lewis had expected that she would be given a reference and turned off, now that there was a Mrs. Collins, as if any Miss Bennet would ever have stepped foot in the kitchen other than to give orders! Mr. Collins' income was not great, it was certainly much smaller than her father's was, but it was quite sufficient for a cook. If anyone were to go, it would be Susannah, with Mrs. Lewis to take over the heaviest of the maid's work; but really, the extra expense was not so very great and it would free Mary's time quite considerably. That reassurance given, Mrs. Lewis became a fount of wisdom and sharp advice. Certainly, she was much better at producing tasteful menus with less ostentation and cost than Mrs. Bennet ever had, and Mary resolved to learn as much from her as she could.

And then there were the household accounts, which were in somewhat of a confused state. Mary spent many hours trying to untangle them before realizing that they were woefully incomplete and it would be better to simply start afresh.

Not to mention the chicken coop was in poor repair and housed no chickens, which required immediate remedy. There were several cows, and in their care and management there was nothing wanting, so Mary could not think how the prospect of fresh eggs every day had been overlooked. (John was reliable, but Mary was swiftly learning that his reliability extended only to doing what was asked of him, and nothing that was not.) Once she got hens in the coop, there would be a small but significant reduction in the kitchen expenditures.

On her third day at Rosings, they were invited to dine at Rosings Park. Mary was sensible of the honor of the invitation, but in no great anticipation of the quality of conversation. She was not disappointed. The remarks over dinner were no less inane than at any dinner party she had ever been to.

But after dinner, oh! After dinner, the ladies sat in the parlor. With the piano. Mary could not ignore her hostess while tea was being served, but Mr. Collins being the only gentleman present, he did not linger long over his brandy and soon joined them. At which point, Mary asked for and was granted permission to open the instrument.

She sat down on the finely inlaid bench and delicately placed her hands in the proper position, wishing she had time alone for scales and exercises. It had been a whole week since she had played, given the furor of wedding preparations and then the move here to Hunsford, where there was no piano. But no matter. She closed her eyes and began to play My Lady Carey's Dompe. It was a short piece, old and unfashionable and simple, but it was the first she had ever learnt by heart and it was still one of her favorites.

That done, she turned her attention to the newest work in her repertoire that she felt confident in playing without music: a Haydn sonata in C major, published only three years earlier. It was, perhaps, a trifle light and insubstantial for playing for so great a lady; but anything more substantial would require music which she did not have with her.

In any case, Lady Catherine was astonishingly ill-bred and talked all through her playing. Mary was used to such disregard, but had expected better of such a great lady. And Mary's reunion with the piano was all-too-short, because as soon as the sonata was finished, Lady Catherine called for the card tables to be brought out, and her presence was required to make a fourth at quadrille.

Mary disapproved of cards, in general; there was no educational or moral improvement to be had in them, and they fulfilled no useful purpose, only tempting people to gambling and other dissolute habits. Most crucially at this time, they took her away from the excellent pianoforte. But nobody had ever listened to her opinion on the matter, and neither her disapproval nor her disappointment were strong enough to anger her husband's patroness with them.

"You certainly play with great force and rapidity, Mrs. Collins," Lady Catherine said. "It is obvious you have taken a great deal of care to improve yourself and your natural talents."

"Thank you, your Ladyship, I have," Mary said with a smile. It was gratifying to hear her talents praised in a way her family or their friends seldom did.

"It is a pity your husband has no instrument for you."

"It is indeed, your ladyship," Mary said, "although I have hopes that we may one day remedy that lack." And sooner rather than later, too, if at all possible.

"Daily practice is _essential_ to maintaining true excellence," Lady Catherine said.

"Oh yes," Mary said. "My sisters have never understood that, but I do, and strive to follow that excellent discipline. Or, I did, when able to use the instrument in my father's house."

"You are very welcome to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano-forte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. You would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house."

Mary looked over at Mrs. Jenkinson, who had spent the evening sitting by her charge and tending to her needs. "Oh, certainly, Mrs. Collins," Mrs. Jenkinson said. "I am so much occupied by Miss de Bourgh that I am seldom there myself, and it is a shame for the instrument to stand idle when there is one who wishes to use it.

"That is very kind," Mary said, with a smile at both ladies. "What time is most convenient? I should not wish to put you to any trouble." And there was that settled. Good books and a piano to play, both at the same time! People who appreciated her talents! Dinners with Lady Catherine would be as tedious as any evening spent in company back home in Meryton, but here instead of dining with four and twenty families, there were few of the same social rank as they, and so their company was requested only when their betters required an extra card-player or two. Life in Hunsford was looking to be very pleasant, indeed.

* * *

All in all, it was Sunday before Mary managed to take the time to sit and acquaint herself with her husband's bookshelves. It had taken a great deal of will to keep her attention focused on the necessary details of running the house, and she was proud of herself for achieving it. George Herbert's writings, poetry and prose both, were a delight to read; _this_ was what God gave the gift of poetry for, not mawkish sentimentality about love.

Mr. Collins had very little to say on the subject when she tried to discuss it with him; that is, he understood it, and could give very proper answers, but few opinions he could not have gotten out of a book. Still, it was better than trying to discuss such topics with her sisters, who would complain or tease her or change the subject, or her father, who would make light of it.

And, on Monday, she found her husband was willing to read aloud to her from any volume she chose while she did the mending. It was quite the pleasantest hour of sewing she had ever spent.

* * *

It took her almost two months to notice the pattern, partially because Mr. Collins often read the sermons of others instead of writing his own. Mary did not blame him for using such resources, of course, for it was common practice and one way to be sure of the correctness and clarity of one's message, but it was a little disappointing, for she could read the sermons herself.

But on those occasions when he wrote his own sermon, the subject was invariably the same: a lecture on the rightness of God-given authority and submission to those God had placed above you. 1 Peter 2:13, Proverbs 8:16, Hebrews 13:17, and Romans 13 all made frequent appearances even when they had nothing to do with the passage assigned for the day's readings. (Ephesians 5, 1 Corinthians 11, and 1 Timothy 2, however, were seldom referenced.)

Mary saw immediately why he did it, when she noticed the pattern; Lady Catherine always complimented him directly after service on an excellent sermon. But a priest was subject to _God's_ approval, not human approval, and his single-minded focus on authority obscured many more important themes within Scripture. And besides, it was _tedious_ , for it was almost the same sermon every week, with a few flourishes to tie it to whatever text was actually assigned. And if _Mary_ was struggling to muster attention to the sermon, how much less were the parishioners listening? Something had to be done.

"My dear Mr. Collins," she said to her husband the next day, as he came in to the sitting room to read to her, "I have noticed that your sermons are a trifle … repetitive."

"Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Collins?" Mr. Collins replied.

"You speak quite eloquently on the subject of proper submission to authority," Mary said. "However, you do not seem to speak about anything else. Even when the Scriptural text does. God's Word is wide, and deep, with many subjects deeply applicable to both our daily lives and the disposition of our souls. Why, then, do you focus so narrowly on the one topic?"

Mr. Collins blushed, and gaped like a fish, and stammered something about Lady Catherine. He was not at his best when he could not think out his words ahead of time. Perhaps it was not kind to take him so entirely unawares when it made him so uncomfortable, but Mary wished to win the point. If she had given him time to think, he would have merely used it to defend a position Mary did not think was worth defending.

"Of course it is right and good to listen to Lady Catherine's concerns," Mary continued, "and certainly, the lower orders require frequent reminding of their place. But when that is _all_ you preach, you are neglecting your care of their souls. More crucially," and _this_ was an argument Mary was quite proud of herself for thinking of, for Mr. Collins would have trouble dismissing it, "you are neglecting your care of _Lady Catherine's_ soul. _She_ already knows the message you give! Others may need to hear it, but not her Ladyship."

Mr. Collins was much struck by this, and sat contemplating it for some time while Mary worked on her sewing, humming quietly to herself.

"That is a most distressing idea," Mr. Collins said eventually, "that in following Lady Catherine's wishes, I might be neglecting to give her the spiritual aid she requires. And yet, I do not see how it may be avoided—she is _so_ particular in her instructions!"

"She is a great lady, but she is no theologian," Mary said. "This is why, although she had the power to give you the living, and will have the power to award it once you choose to leave, the great magnates have no power to remove clergy who are displeasing to them. She may disapprove, but she cannot force you out. The worst she could do is reduce the frequency of our invitations to Rosings Park. You have not _quite_ the independence you will have when you inherit Longbourn, but something very close to it. I am not saying you should _never_ preach on subjects pleasing to Lady Catherine, only that such sermons should be part of the repertoire, not the whole of it." She paused again to let Mr. Collins think it over some more.

From Mary's point of view, the worst Lady Catherine could do was deny her the use of Mrs. Jenkinson's instrument, since Mary would be quite happy never to sit through an insipid dinner and tedious night of cards again. Still, she did not think it would come to that, and even if it did, Mary was well on the way to saving the money necessary to purchase a pianoforte of her own. Mrs. Jenkinson's instrument was of no very great quality, and it was a longer walk than Mary cared to make every day, especially when the weather was bad, or they were invited for dinner in the evening and she had to make it twice in one day.

Eventually, she deemed that her husband had had enough time to contemplate her words, and suggested he bring out a Bible so they might discuss the readings assigned for that Sunday. It was a most pleasant way to spend the day, and Mary was very gratified that, with prompting, her husband had started to offer his own opinions, not merely those he had read or heard from his professors in school. It had taken much care on her part to get him to do so, but it was the first time in her life she had ever really had a conversation partner who was willing to talk about the same things she did.

Afterwards, she made a point to listen to him natter on about his gardens, little though the subject interested her. It was, after all, only fair.

* * *

Over the next several Sundays, the content of his preaching was much improved. Mary was quite happy with it, and Mr. Collins slowly relaxed as Lady Catherine did not, at first seem to notice. This would not last, of course, but Mary had no fear of her Ladyship's notice.

Mr. Collins was, at his heart, a very insecure man, requiring constant affirmation to stay on a firm and even keel, and this Mary could provide far more frequently and consistently than Lady Catherine. He would, she believed, follow _her_ lead, and not that of his patroness. And Mary had had time to plan out her response to any critique Lady Catherine might make.

They were sitting down to afternoon tea one Sunday, and Mary had just finished a concerto that, as usual, had not been listened to, when Lady Catherine breached the subject.

"Mr. Collins," said her Ladyship, "I have noticed that you have not been as attentive to my instructions of late as you were used to be. In particular, your sermons are not as sound on the subject of the natural order of society."

"I _am_ sorry that your Ladyship finds them to be lacking in _any_ way," Mr. Collins said.

"I am surprised to hear of your displeasure, though," Mary said, before he could go any further, leaving her seat at the instrument to come sit by her husband. "Mr. Collins has, I believe, become more eloquent in the time I have been listening to him preach, and his topics are always edifying and useful. Indeed, I have noticed a pleasing balance of theological depth and solid moral advice, which I believe will be informative to parishioners of all stations, great as well as low and everything in between."

Lady Catherine gave a harrumphing noise, which she made when she could not exactly disagree, but wanted to make her disapproval known nevertheless.

Mr. Collins quailed, but Mary stayed firm, and pressed her leg to her husband's to give him some support. She took up her teacup and sipped daintily, eyes lowered as was proper, waiting for Lady Catherine's next sally. It could not be that bad. Lady Catherine was no more dictatorial than Mrs. Bennet could be, and Lady Catherine was given to neither shrieks nor fainting fits.

"The lower orders need constant reminders of their place," Lady Catherine said, ignoring Mary's words completely. "All other matters may be easily resolved when _that_ one is firmly enforced. And I rely on you, Mr. Collins, to give those reminders."

"Indeed, you are right as always, Lady Catherine," Mary said. "It is so important to do things the _right_ way, and people will not know what that is unless they are told. But do you not find that when you hear only _one_ thing, over and over, it is easy to simply ignore? Our minister at Meryton was one such; he had only three sermons in him, and by the time I was twelve I knew all of them well enough to have given them myself. Therefore, I paid him little attention, and read through my prayer-book instead, while my mother and sisters gossiped instead of listening or doing anything edifying. With a wider variety of topics, each one may be fully heard, instead of ignored, and I believe it will give the topic of the natural order _more_ weight, not less, when it is preached."

"The deficiencies of your mother and sisters are not at issue, Mrs. Collins," Lady Catherine said.

"Indeed, they are not," Mary said with a sigh, having long learned the trick of interjecting one's words before one's opponent could fully make their point, "for though I did my best to check them and instill propriety in them, they never listened to me. Still, do you believe that tradesmen and farmers and their wives and daughters have more patience and attention than a gentleman's daughters? I have not found that to be the case."

Her ladyship harrumphed again. Truly, it had done Lady Catherine no good to be the unquestioned mistress of Rosings for so long with no one to check her. If she had had exposure to more people willing to argue with her, she might not be so disconcerted with Mary's tactics now. Her ladyship knew how to handle subservience (to be accepted as her due) and outright defiance (to be squashed like a bug), but not how to handle a courteous agreement on all the superficial points that nevertheless remained firm in opposition to the main point. It was how Jane got her way so often, and was a technique Mary had long admired but never before managed to put into practice, her mother and sisters being too annoying, illogical, and improper for Mary to bear agreeing with even superficially.

"And do you, then, concern yourself with your husband's sermons, then, Mrs. Collins?" Lady Catherine asked.

"As much as I have always concerned myself with my own spiritual education," Mary replied. "I have always had a firm belief that it is a Christian's duty to pay full attention and thought to the priest's words that they may help us grow in faith and morality and knowledge of the Lord."

"You seem very intent on _altering_ his words, Mrs. Collins, for I do not overlook that he has served this parish for several years, now, and it was only once _you_ arrived that their content began to change. It is highly inappropriate; surely you are familiar with St. Paul's words in First Corinthians chapter fourteen, that women should be silent in church?" Lady Catherine had an air of triumph, the same one she had when laying down a particularly good card at the table.

Mary disliked it. God's Holy Word was, well, _holy_ , and not a trump card to be played as if Scripture were a game. "I do not speak in church, beyond greeting my husband's parishioners and asking after their daily concerns. Nor do I teach, in church or outside of it, for that, too, would be inappropriate." Her conscience gave her a pang, but she consoled herself that her discussions with her husband were not _really_ teaching; his opinions were his own, however she shaped and pulled them out from him, and in any case he had a far greater education on the subject than she, so how could it be considered teaching? "I do discuss the readings with him, and occasionally suggest approaches to them that his flock might find edifying, but if _that_ falls under St. Paul's prohibition, then surely your ladyship's advice does as well, and I know that you would never do anything improper or outside of your God-given station in life."

_That_ produced a splutter and a squawk and a sharp rebuke, at which Mr. Collins blanched even whiter than the preceding conversation had made him. But it was all sound and fury, signifying nothing, and Mary held fast to her ground. Respectfully, deferentially, giving a full appreciation to the differences of station and rank, but not giving an inch, for Mary was right and Lady Catherine was wrong, and Mary knew it.

After several more sallies, which Mary met with equanimity, Lady Catherine at last changed the subject, and began describing a challenging argument she had arbitrated in the village. Conversation over dinner was even more stilted than usual, but Mr. Collins was still asked to carve.

The carriage was not called for them; they had to walk home to the parsonage, for the first time since Mary's arrival in Hunsford. Still, she did not mind; she had won her point, and Lady Catherine had not even thought to deny her the use of Mrs. Jenkinson's instrument.

In the next two weeks, there were no invitations to Rosings Park at all. Mr. Collins fretted, but Mary did not; and Mr. Collins seemed to realize, by the end of the second week, that this was not a dire deprivation. He still had his parishioners, his gardens, his sermons, and his wife.

Lady Catherine did eventually invite them again, for if ever she wished to play at cards, she needed at least one more to make up a table, but their invitations were not so frequent as once they had been. Which suited Mary perfectly, and which her husband learned not to repine after.

All in all, life in Hunsford was as perfect for Mary as it was possible to be, and she was quite content with it.

**Author's Note:**

> rebloggable on [tumblr](https://beatrice-otter.tumblr.com/post/176397441727/fic-far-above-rubies).


End file.
